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She tasted so good, like tea and honey, only sweeter. He had never known anything to taste as good as she did, to smell as good as she did. He growled as he picked her up into his arms and walked toward the bed. He dropped her in the middle and stood there, staring at her, his chest heaving, his breeches tightening around his cock.
Hades climbed atop the bed and covered Eloise’s body with his. He kissed her again, and her hands went to his shoulders, stroking his skin through his shirtsleeves, caressing him.
Hades paused, breathing heavily. The long-ago memories assailed the moment. The memory of rough masculine hands as they did the same. Touching him, stroking him, forcing his arousal.
The ugly laughter when they reached their desired outcome.
Hades felt shame rise to his face, and then the self-loathing came. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.
“Keyon.” Eloise’s soft voice pulled him out of his worst memories.Nightmares.
She placed her soft palm against his cheek again, and tears burned at the back of Hades’ eyes. No one had ever touched his disgusting, disfigured face with such reverence, such tenderness. Such a simple touch.
How can a touch be so different? While his tormentors wanted to humiliate him, take something—everything—from him, Eloise only gave. She shared her heat, her tenderness, her desires. She gave him courage and confidence in a way he had not felt before. The confidence to be himself, to act on his physical desires. For years, he had held himself back. He’d watched the whores disrobe for him, touch themselves for him, and he had rubbed himself until he came, all the feelings of long ago years returning every time.
Every time he felt the release, he also felt like he was back in that brothel as an eight-year-old boy: whipped, tormented, forced to arousal, and then the release. Humiliated, abused, and degraded.
All these years, he’d felt like desire was wicked and shameful. But not with her.
Nothing felt wicked and shameful with her. Eloise was as pure as light, and her touch washed away all his darkest memories, chased all his nightmares away, and kept all his insecurities at bay.
Hades covered her palm with his and kissed her, breathing her in, basking in the light of her presence.
“Look at me,” she whispered.
Hades turned to her, and his gaze collided with hers. It was full of compassion and desire. There was no pity in her gaze. If there were, he might have stood and walked away. He hated pity, and he would not suffer it from anyone. Not even her. Or maybe especially not her.
She did not pity him, no. She wanted him. Perhaps even loved him.
The thought pulled Hades out of his stupor. He couldn’t think about love. Everybody he’d ever loved died. So he would not fall in love with Eloise.
He would claim her body, her soul. He would plunder her senses and ride her body. But he would not even think of love.
Hades diligently worked on untying the lace on her bodice. He growled as it took more time than he anticipated, and Eloise chuckled.
“You are not very patient, are you?”
“No,” Hades said as the lace gave way.
He took her bodice and yanked it down, bearing her shoulders and beautiful breasts. He stared at them, not quite believing his eyes. Then slowly, he lowered his head and licked the dark areola. Eloise moaned and arched against him.
Hades smiled against her skin and then licked the other nipple. Oh, how he’d dreamed of doing this to her ever since he’d met her. But especially since that morning in his room, when he’d watched her play with herself, touching her nipples while he pretended it was him. That day, he’d watched her from the bathtub, wishing his tongue was laving her breasts, instead of her thumbs.
He lowered his head and licked it once again. It stood proudly, tightening into a firm bud, and Eloise let out another moan.
“Lord, how I love to hear the sounds you make,” he croaked. “Eloise, my darling.”
He took her nipple into his mouth and sucked lightly, all the while watching her face. Her eyelids fell closed, and her mouth slightly opened as she let out a breathy moan. Her head fell back, exposing her white, silky neck.
Hades crawled up and bit on her sensitive skin. Eloise let out a squeak, then her hand traveled up to cover the tightened peak of her breast.
Hades growled and nudged her hand away.
“Mine,” he growled. “Your body is now mine. Only I can touch it.”
He covered her breast with his hand as if in proof and squeezed lightly, before his thumb made a circle around the bud.
Eloise arched again, her hips lifting and rubbing against his crotch.
